child of the past, angels, guardians, spiritual, innocence
Poetry of life

The Child Within

Listen to the shrill child within. we are still in possession of what we were so hidden within this child of light down there somewhere covered up deep behind those eyes once filled with beauty. it was OK to be you. but, when you listened to the lies the world told you it took away… Continue reading The Child Within

men, women, power, influence, differences, life, relationships
Love poetry


her relationship with common man was simpatico; resting together like butterflies upon flowers in a field of dreams fluttering their wings in the morning sun. her power usurped by its own femininity was that simple. in strict manner of ipso facto 'the secret of life became no more than living it'. yet, she unwittingly lived… Continue reading Simpatico

look, regret, life, poetry, steven humphreys
Spiritual poetry


Look! something else I've got to do before I'm damned well through with all of this stuff called 'whatever'! [better word you should have used Steve is 'life.'] (Oh yes, I now even talk to myself... lately, I seem to have become two people. Yes, I converse with them both. Does that mean there are… Continue reading Look

crap shoot in vegas, poetry, steven humphreys
Pet poetry, Spiritual poetry

Crap shoot in Vegas

Throughout your fellow travels lonely road mysteries and faulty babble friends and family squabbles sitting at tables squeak and wobble telling tall fables and stories sun-dried glory egos tiny and humongous barge in on souls amongst us like a well drink soused crap shoot losing spree in Vegas uncle drives away in his smoking rattle trap car forever… Continue reading Crap shoot in Vegas

poetry madness, tribute, steven humphreys, poems
Spiritual poetry


'We have no time to stand and stare'! says the tramp poet it is in tribute to his eternal freedom he sleeps so very intentionally it is his bench alone biding his time upon it is his possession forever poetry all day long up in a puff of cigar smoke to the clouds moon sun and… Continue reading Tribute

Is poetry written by madmen, steven humphreys, poem
Spiritual poetry

Is poetry written by madmen?

The maddest of the maddest surround us with books and pens not sharp bloody knives like cutting poetry sliced poems and wicked prose stacked up high against the wall of metaphorical delights alphabetically right morally tight you might ask when we smell a rose with our weary nose it is in fact a rose because we… Continue reading Is poetry written by madmen?

an alien amongst us, poetry, steven humphreys
Spiritual poetry

An alien walks amongst us

The walking stick walks the old man over bumps on the sidewalk his canine leads him very well the old lady watches man and dog hobble from past to future trapped in time no one remembers except for that lady standing over there for those who would remember are all gone except an alien walks amongst us… Continue reading An alien walks amongst us

rain falls mainly in maine, poetry, steven humphreys
Spiritual poetry

Rain is falling

rain is falling mainly in Maine Peaks reddening suffering aching watering eyes sedentary plains open mischief disinherited immortality cry from L.A. a banshee's decree immediate woes perfidious is this world fastidious are those unworthy terror rises the calico cat smiles scratching 'Oh my dear! what shall we do?' bow wow meow tweet moo guffaw the sounds the… Continue reading Rain is falling

seeing colors insane, steven humphreys, poetry
Spiritual poetry

Seeing Colors Insane

Seeing colors insane It is ours it is yours it is as dark as coal Grass and dirt so finds you You can run away but it will engulf you up to your neck then up to your hairy eyeballs! Every little wee bit helps but don't give him another inch! He will only take never… Continue reading Seeing Colors Insane

walking at midnight, poetry
Spiritual poetry

Walking at Midnight

Walking at midnight with a hoe in your hand black and white the grim October harvester cometh you know yourself well enough to take to someone in their understanding doing almost swiftly with your life like that chicken sandwich in the other hand (with a bite out of it) be the sandwich look it straight in the eye… Continue reading Walking at Midnight